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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24679723">why can’t you love me? (small in the way little siblings are always small for the older ones, because some things no one ever outgrows)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/'>Anonymous</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sanders Sides (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>???? - Freeform, ??????? - Freeform, ??????????????, Abusive Parents, Abusive sibling, Headcanons made up on the spot so I can vent harder, Hurt No Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Implied Transphobia, I’m just venting about my family issues, M/M, Sibling issues, Suicidal Ideation, The author’s trauma insecurities and internal monologue, Unsympathetic Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Unsympathetic Logic | Logan Sanders, Unsympathetic Morality | Patton Sanders, Violence Mentions, implied internalized homophobia, self harm mentions, vent fic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 07:00:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,087</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24679723</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“There was a contract made in that moment. Remus was the big brother. He would keep Roman safe. Roman was the little brother. He would let Remus keep him safe. They were going to love each other. They were going to be there for each other. They were going to be brothers.</p><p>At least, Remus had always thought there had been.”</p><p>Parethetical part of the title from SoDoRoses (FairyChess)'s The Butterfly People Effect, an amazing SS fic that is an au for another amazing SS fic, go read Love and Other Fairytales (also by SoDoRoses) if you somehow haven't already.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>(IMPLIED), Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders &amp; Deceit | Janus Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Deceit | Janus Sanders</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Anonymous</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>why can’t you love me? (small in the way little siblings are always small for the older ones, because some things no one ever outgrows)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Sorry in advance if any of this is inaccurate or too weird or fucky for you - I made this all up in like thirty minutes. (The weird headcanons not my trauma.) Anyways....</p><p>I love you all. Please don't keep reading if you aren't ready for a whole lotta teenage angst plus at least some amount of all those things tagged above.</p><p>Also, if you know how to stop blaming yourself or how to fix yourself, I am accepting all offers of help.</p><p>character thomas voice : hahaha, help me</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Believe it or not, Remus was born first.</p><p>It’s backwards, he knows, but everything else about him is wrong, so why not that too?</p><p>So Remus was born first, came hurtling down onto the hard cold rough floor, because Thomas was on the playground and the mindscape shifted with location more often than not and the concrete hurt, warm in the summer sun. He had fallen from nothing, scraped up his palms and knees, and he was lost. He was alone, all alone, because nothing else was around him but Thomas who was crying. He wanted to comfort him but he didn’t know what to say.</p><p>He went around his life like nothing had happened for a long time, ignoring the red roiling energy ball that hovered right behind him for however long it took. Then there was Roman, who rolled when he hit the ground and stood up to his full, very young height, and happily laughed, and then he and Remus made eye contact.</p><p>There was a contract made in that moment. Remus was the big brother. He would keep Roman safe. Roman was the little brother. He would let Remus keep him safe. They were going to love each other. They were going to be there for each other. They were going to be brothers.</p><p>At least, Remus had always thought there had been.</p><p> </p><p>—</p><p> </p><p>Remus doesn’t understand why Roman <em> always </em>gets his way. </p><p>He gets Roman getting to pick what daydreams they let Thomas have - he’s already gotten plenty of speeches on why Thomas doesn’t like his ideas, and how they’re bad, and he should keep them away from Thomas - but this is different. This is just a <em> movie. </em></p><p>“He is <em> not </em> going to pick that!” Roman insists for the ninth time tonight, and Remus groans loudly.</p><p>“Do you think anyone will care? It’s what his <em> sister </em> wants to watch, and you know his parents will like that he’s thinking about her, and he’s been <em> wondering </em> about it-“</p><p>“He is <em> not watching a Barbie movie!” </em></p><p>“<em>Why not?!” </em></p><p>
  <em> “Because what if people hate him is why not, you stupid idiot!” </em>
</p><p>“No using the ‘s’ word,” Dad says as he walks past the two bickering brothers, with all the authority of their actual father. “And buddy, let your brother pick.”</p><p>Remus wants to scream. “He <em> always </em> gets to pick! He picks <em> everything! </em> What’s so wrong with what <em> I </em>want?!”</p><p>Dad sighs, with that sigh he always uses when Remus is being unreasonable. “Now, no yelling, kiddo,” he scolds. “You’re the older brother, be mature and let him have his pick. You know how he gets when we don’t.”</p><p>And Remus does, and it <em> kills </em> him every time. Roman will throw full on <em> tantrums, </em> kicking and crying and screaming for however long it takes for Dad and Teach agree that it’s better for Roman to get what he wants than to keep fighting with him. Remus doesn’t think it’s going to end well, he can already see - Roman, years in the future, still screaming and crying when he doesn’t get what he wants, even when Thomas is well into being an adult, sobbing not because he got a bad part in a show or something but because his shoes aren’t the right color or whatever. It’s a bad idea, letting Roman have free reign like this.</p><p>Remus is so mad. It wouldn’t be so bad if they had treated him like this <em> before </em> Roman came around, but they <em> hadn’t, </em> and- and- and it <em> just wasn’t fair- </em></p><p><em> “I hate you!!!” </em> he screams, before pushing past Dad and running out of the room, trying to hide his tears.</p><p>He doesn’t go to his Room, or to anyone else’s - he doesn’t <em> need </em> anyone else. He finds a secluded corner of the Imagination, which no one other than he and Roman can go into, and makes himself a little linen closet, and crawls inside to bawl his eyes out. That’s the day he makes up his mind - no more crying and no more complaining when Roman gets his way. If they want him to act mature, so be it.</p><p> </p><p>—</p><p> </p><p>It’s seventh grade when it finally happens. </p><p>He’s encouraging Thomas to join in with the other boys his age in drawing a dick on his desk when he feels the sullen pull of Morality on his back. Remus sighs, heavy and dry, and follows the summons, popping up in the living room area they’d all subconsciously created.</p><p>“Heya, kiddo,” Morality says, voice shaking slightly. “We, uh, need to have a little talk, I think?”</p><p>“What about,” Remus says, knowing full well what about.</p><p>“These… <em> thoughts, </em> that you’ve been having Thomas have recently, I, I just don’t know about all of them…”</p><p>“Which ones?” Remus snarks. “The ones about Ian McLarky or the ones about cutting his arms open like his old babysitter obviously used to?”</p><p>Morality seethes and clenches his fists. “<em>All of them!</em> <em>Including</em> this new… direction you’re taking some of them!”</p><p>“It’s sex! It’s normal! It’s how we all got here in the first place! It’s okay for Thomas to think about it - all the other boys clearly are! He can draw a <em> fucking </em> dick-“</p><p>“Language-“</p><p>“On whatever he <em> fucking </em> pleases, and he doesn’t have to explain himself to you or anyone! <em> I </em>don’t have to explain myself, dammit!”</p><p>“<em>Language, </em> Creativity, don’t make me tell you again-“</p><p>“<em>Fuck you! </em> ” Remus screams. “Don’t talk to me like you’re my dad! I <em> hate </em> you! You don’t <em> care </em> about me, you <em> never </em> have, don’t <em> act </em> like you do! You like Creativity more than me, you fucking <em> prick, </em> because you think I’m <em> wrong- </em>“</p><p>“You are wrong.”</p><p>The silence is deafening as Roman grabs an apple, taking a singular bite (like an asshole). “You’re wrong, and weird, and everyone knows it,” Roman says conversationally. “There’s something <em> wrong </em> with you. Why can’t you just be <em> normal? </em>”</p><p>It’s that night that Remus decides to run away. He knows Morality kicked Lying our ages ago, kept his mouth shut for fear of facing the same fate, but he’s sure that wherever he is, it can’t be worse than this.</p><p>He says goodbye to Panic (who hugs him and tells him he’ll try to come visit, but he can’t help but think that it’s an act) before he slips out of the safe, defined boundaries of the faux home they live in and runs off into the night.</p><p> </p><p>—</p><p> </p><p>It’s Deceit who first shows him everything he’s been missing. Deceit who lets him ramble for hours about his many interests, who’ll even ramble back. Deceit who shows him how good he’s gotten at drawing random animals - living in the Subconscious, it seems, means he’s seen an awful lot of things that don’t even rear their ugly heads in the real world. He draws with sticks in the nonexistent grey shadow of dirt that makes up the world they walk in, draws them cuddling.</p><p>Deceit is always cold here. There’s no sun, just a bland, dull, ambient glow, all the time. Deceit is part snake, Remus knows, and he knows how much he misses home - they talk about it often. They used to ask Panic about it, but he hasn’t been visiting as much recently. It’s making them both nervous, but neither will admit it.</p><p>Deceit will let him get dark. He doesn’t cut him off like Morality, or talk over him like Roman. He lets Remus talk about things he likes, or hates, or that make him angry. He even tolerates Remus talking about sex, or violence, or weird things that no one else would ever bother to put up with.</p><p>It’s Deceit who Remus kisses. Just on the forehead, but the memory sticks with him for weeks. They try kissing more, once, in a mistake that neither are quite sure how long it lasts, but at the end they both resolve that it was wholly a mistake. </p><p>Their life changes, just a little, when Anxiety comes to live with them full-time, and then again when he starts making trips to the surface, and then again when he leaves all together. They cry a lot, and Remus’ thoughts go somewhere they never have before, and he knows they’re ripping across the Subconscious, straight into the Imagination, and wonders only what his brother makes of the visions of pills and bones turning to dust and being all alone so alone so worthless and unloved and alone.</p><p>He wonders if his brother even remembers him.</p><p> </p><p>—</p><p> </p><p>There’s a perverse pleasure that Remus takes in disgusting the “Light Sides”. Even Virgil. <em> Especially </em> Virgil, because he doesn’t get to just <em> do that, </em> to take away something so important and brush it off like it was <em> nothing. </em></p><p>(That’s not fair. He’s apologized. Why aren’t you over it yet?)</p><p>It’s infuriating how Logan refuses to react. He hates him so much, wants to wring that neck with his stupid tie and turn him into a fucking leather jacket. He wonders what he’d have to do to get him to take him seriously. He wonders what he’d have to do to get some <em> fucking attention </em> around here, especially as Logan tricks everyone else into acting like he doesn’t matter and isn’t a threat and <em> isn’t important and- </em></p><p>(Oh, so now Logan is your father?)</p><p>He makes an impact. He does. He refuses to think otherwise. If he didn’t, then... he wouldn’t be doing a very good job as Creativity, would he? It’s his job to have ideas. </p><p>(And you’re failing spectacularly at it. More vent fanfic. Will it ever end.)</p><p>He doesn’t like crying. It’s messy and pointless and it just makes him look weak.</p><p> </p><p>—</p><p> </p><p>“Why won’t you love me?”</p><p>The question is casual, thrown out as if it’s something normal to ask - like Remus is asking what Roman’s favorite fruit is, or which human tooth he finds most aesthetically attractive. (Canid, obviously.)</p><p>Roman turns around from where he’s tanning by the egregious sapphire lake he’s made for this exact purpose. Remus, in sweatpants and tanktop, doesn’t fit in here at all, and he’s kinda okay with that. He wants an answer.</p><p>Roman opens his mouth.</p><p>(But you don’t know the answer. You never will.)</p><p>(What if you <em> are </em> broken?)</p><p>(Maybe your sister is right. Maybe your father is right. Maybe your mother is right. Maybe he’s right. Maybe you are a waste of time and space and energy and broken on the inside and your moral code has been fucked up since you were born and you try you try so hard but you just can’t do it all the time and shit fucking hurts and now you just want out but you’ve forgotten how to take up space or to be angry and you’re never going to get better.)</p><p>(Why won't you love me is a good question. Why won't you love me back is an even better one.)</p><p>(Because somehow, despite everything, you still love her, and you'll probably never stop.)</p><p>(Even if you wish you could.)</p><p> </p><p>—</p><p> </p><p>Once upon a time, there were two brothers, Romulus and Remus.</p><p>They grew up together, and they always fought. One day, they were fighting over what hill they should build a city on. Remus saw six birds, thought it was an omen, and went to build his city on one hill. Romulus, sulking, saw twelve, assumed it was an even better omen, and went to build his city on the other.</p><p>When Remus saw Romulus building his city, he was so mad at him for not following the god’s orders that he crossed the city wall to yell at him. His brother killed him and went on to be famous for supposedly founding Rome. Remus lay in the dirt and rotted.</p><p> </p><p>—</p><p> </p><p>Once upon a time, there were two <strike>brothers sisters</strike> siblings.</p><p>(You told me the word siblings didn’t mean as much that you wanted to love me as a sister why couldn’t I just be normal how dare I mess up your happily ever after)</p><p>The older always wanted to take care of the younger. The younger never wanted their help. The younger always got their way, and the older suffered in silence for years, until they eventually turned their back on their family and found people who cared about them.</p><p>(I wish.)</p><p>The older always felt betrayed by the younger, for violating the unspoken agreement of being siblings, for never loving them.</p><p>The younger never felt anything towards the older.</p><p> </p><p>—</p><p> </p><p>Not one. Damn. Thing.</p><p> </p><p>—</p><p> </p><p>Re<strike>mus</strike> lay in his bed, at six oh three am, and rotted.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-800-273-TALK (8255) (For those who live in the US)<br/>https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_suicide_crisis_lines</p><p>Please take care of yourselves. &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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